11 Secret Friendships
by A Person Who Likes Comedy
Summary: I'm going to tell you something and you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone. You have to seriously pinkie swear me on this shit. Got it?


_Duke 's POV_

I'm going to tell you something and you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone. You have to seriously pinkie swear me on this shit.

Sometimes I hang out with Fanboy and Chum Chum.

I kind of want to go hide right now. I feel like someone's going to come castrate me or something. Seriously, though, Fanboy's a pretty nice guy when Jabba-in-an-orange-costume, and the Japanese girl aren't around. We play football together and none of either of our friends do, so we chill sometimes. I'm the center to his quarterback, which, if you ask me, means we've gotta trust each other. If I don't give him a perfect snap, we're basically done for and we lose.

Not like the team doesn't manage to lose despite my perfect snaps or anything. Fanboy and I are the best on the team. Which basically means we suck majorly.

Cheech's such a moron. Now I have absolutely no desire to go buy a burrito and watch The Harlem Shake. I'm going to have to try and be cool so I can feel good about myself. What a hassle. Jeez.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone, flip it up, and stretch out the antenna. Yes, ok? I have a really old phone. I live a touch screen- free life, and I am very happy. And, I don't know what's up with everyone else, but I'm perfectly fine with picking up three different objects to call people, listen to music, and go on the internet. One item should not have that much power, it's just scary. With "Brick", I can text people, and if I'm feeling adventurous, call them. That's all I need.

I'm not really sure where I'm walking to, but Fanboy's water tower house and mine are in the same direction so I just take my time, sipping my delicious Code Red and hoping he texts me back so I don't have to wallow in the fact that my closest friend is too wrapped up in some guy he'd never looked at twice before he decided he wanted to eat burritos with me.

As I pass The Frosty Mart, heading in the direction of houses, Fanboy texts me back. _Just come here and save me. Yo and Chum chum are playing BLOPS against each other_.

Huh. That blows. My options now include: crawling back to Cheech like a total wimp, sitting in my Man Cave alone, or listening to a conceited weirdo fight with a fat moron about a video game that should be worshipped, not argued about. I guess I could call Francine and…wait, she dumped me. Alright, never mind. I'll just have to cross her off the list of potential-girls-that-will-like-me-for-a-reason-oth er-than-my-dad's-job. Every day I become less sure that this girl actually exists. And Chris's on some fancy cruise to celebrate his richness.

The straw from my drink makes that slurping noise against the ice, signaling that my huge cup lacks Mountain Dew. And I'm hungry. When your life sucks as much as mine, you'll understand why I sometimes cry.

Fanboy's house is closer than mine and, if I'm lucky, Yo will pull a "I HATE YOU FANBOY! DROP DEAD!" before I even arrive, so I go there.

It's kind of a nice day, for Galaxy Hills, and I shake my cup up and down so the ice clangs and I have something to listen to. Before I'm even inside, I can hear that the Asian one is still at Fanboy's. I sigh, but let myself in anyway.

"Oh no," Yo mutters, looking over at the door at my entrance.

Here's the thing about me and Yo. We'd kind of look alike if she was more muscular and I was way uglier. Also, she pisses me off so much every time she talks to me that usually I end up agreeing with what she says by mistake or I give some lame comeback, which leads us to me whining, "Fanboy wanted me here."

To which Yo laughs. Fanboy smiles and waves me over from the couch. "Hey Duke," he calls.

"Yeah," Chum Chum adds, "Yo is just mad because her mom made her sleep at our house last night so she could go out with her boyfriend."

Fanboy and I laugh at this, while Yo's face turns red. She looks like a tomato kind of. Or that other red thing, the one that reminds me of Winnie the Pooh for some reason. I don't remember, but, whatever it is, that's what Yo looks like.

Yo stands up, says her line, which I won't repeat because if you don't know it, you don't know _anything_, and leaves.

A _radish_, that's it. Yo looks like a radish. "YAY! She's gone!" Fanboy cheers. I'm really glad he's on the same side as me about hating Yo. Because, in all honesty, she kind of scares me. He tosses the extra controller to Chum Chum and they start to play again.

I sit next to Fanboy on the couch and stick my hand into a bag of nachos. "Thanks for coming," he says. "I might've killed myself eventually."

"No problem," I respond.

Once I realize that the weirdo and Jabba-in-an-orange-costume don't matter so much when the Asian girl isn't around, I feel a lot better. And I think that maybe I could do this. Stick it to Cheech, let him eat as many burritos as he wants, and I'll just chill with Fanboy. It'll really piss him off and I'll have a fine time doing it and Fanboy will have a normal person around when Yo's not here. A friendship with Fanboy is like a win-win-win situation.

Duke does _not_ pass up triple wins.


End file.
